


Snowstorms Get Blamed For Everything

by somebodywakeuphicks



Series: Joyce and Hopper Need Each Other-One Shots [10]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: A little Mike and El Valentine's cuteness, Blizzards & Snowstorms, F/M, Hopper is sexy oops did I just say that, Joyce and Hopper are meant to be, Joyce finally gets a day home alone, Marriage Proposal, Playing in the Snow, Snowed In, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-08
Updated: 2018-02-08
Packaged: 2019-03-15 06:32:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13607592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somebodywakeuphicks/pseuds/somebodywakeuphicks
Summary: Hopper has the ring. He thinks a Valentine's proposal is cliche. But now it's the day after Valentine's Day, and he and Joyce are completely snowed in (with three teenagers, of course). Whatever will Hopper do?





	Snowstorms Get Blamed For Everything

**Author's Note:**

> This is the tenth work in a sequence of Jopper one shots.
> 
> All stories in this series will have different ratings, so please be aware of that. They may involve different characters and POV, but they are all centered on Hopper and Joyce's relationship in some way.
> 
> ***
> 
> I was going to make this one Teen Audiences, but as I was writing, it turned Explicit. Sorry (but not really).
> 
> There really isn't much conflict in this one, but eh. Mostly Hopper and Joyce being in love and shit.

_Joyce Byers_

 

Joyce tilted her nose toward the red roses left in a vase on her kitchen table, breathing in their fragrance. She picked up the box of chocolates, taking a bite of a hazelnut candy, her favorite. A card sat perched against the vase. Inside, it read:

_Dear Joyce,_

_Sorry I can’t be there for Valentine’s Day. I hope these make up for it, even just a little bit. I’ll be home later, around eight. I love you, and I’ll see you when I get home._

_Hopper_

Joyce smiled at the sentiment. She finally had a day off after working for two weeks straight, _and_ she had the house all to herself. That was enough of a present in her mind. She poured herself a generous glass of merlot, heading to the bathroom and filling the tub with warm water and bubble bath. She hummed to herself as she stripped and threw her hair up, walking back to her bedroom to find that novel she’d been meaning to finish. 

After her toes had sufficiently pruned up, she climbed out of the bath, dried herself off, and strutted, naked, to the bedroom. Slipping on her favorite set of underwear (light blue with pink flowers and a little lace trim), she threw a lightweight robe over herself without bothering to tie it and waltzed over to the radio, flipping it on. Joyce started the dishes, and when the next song began, her eyes lit up. She swayed her hips to the rhythm and belted out the lyrics.

_Why do you build me up (build me up) buttercup, baby_

_Just to let me down (let me down) and mess me around_

_And then worst of all (worst of all) you never call, baby_

_When you say you will (say you will) but I love you still_

_I need you—_

“I need you more than anyone, darlin’—”

Joyce shrieked and whirled around, ready to clobber the owner of the voice with the wooden spoon she’d been singing into. 

Hopper stood before her, face beet red as he tried to hold his laughter in. It didn’t work. He doubled over, tears running down his cheeks. Joyce did clobber him with the spoon, but only playfully, and he pulled it from her grip before wrapping his arms around her waist. “So this is what you do when no one’s home, huh?” He wagged an eyebrow. 

Joyce sighed. “It would be, if I could ever _get_ time alone,” she teased. 

“I see how it is,” Hopper said, backing up. “Thought I’d drop in and say hi. Forgot something, anyway. And you don’t even want to see me.” He pouted.

“Look at you and your puppy dog eyes,” Joyce said, mimicking his pout. “So sad.”

“I’d be happier if you do that little hip shake for me again—”

“Shut up,” Joyce said, smacking his arm. 

“What? It was hot.”

“Please. I’m embarrassed enough. What did you forget, anyway?”

“My handcuffs.”

This time, Joyce’s face flushed. “Oh. Um. I think you left them on the nightstand.”

“Gotcha.” Hopper stepped into the bedroom to retrieve the handcuffs before walking back over to Joyce, kissing her forehead while simultaneously squeezing her ass. “I gotta go. When I get home, though…”

“Right, so what’s happening tonight?”

“Well, I thought I’d give El a break from being grounded. Valentine’s Day and all.” Hopper groaned, but in jest. “I’m picking Mike up, and he’s going to surprise El by cooking her dinner.”

Joyce let out a little squeal. “Aw! That’s adorable.”

“It is, isn’t it? Bonus points for me, and I get to keep my eye on them. Win-win, as far as I’m concerned.”

“How’s the weather holding up?” Joyce asked. The weatherman predicted several inches, possibly the biggest storm they’d had in years.

“It’s starting to come down, but barely.”

“Stay safe.” Joyce would never admit it to him, but Hopper out driving in snow made her nervous. She just wanted him home safe.

“I will.” Hopper kissed Joyce on the mouth and headed out the door. 

The day passed all too quickly. Joyce glanced out the window from time to time, light flurries still coming down. Will and El arrived home via school bus. They made themselves a snack before settling down in front of the TV.

At 6 o’clock, Joyce dialed the station, and Flo answered. 

“Hi Flo. It’s Joyce. Is Hopper there?”

“Oh, hello, Joyce! No, he’s not here. He’s been called out to an accident.” 

Joyce’s stomach clenched. “Okay. Any chance he might be let off early?”

“I wouldn’t think so. This is supposed to be the biggest snowstorm in ten years. Fifteen inches, they’re saying. We’ve already got three, and people are already driving like idiots. Do you want me to radio him and tell him to call you?”

“No, that’s okay. Thanks, anyway.” Joyce hung up, wringing her hands. 

At eight-twenty, Joyce paced the living room and kitchen, glancing out the window every couple minutes.

“Mom, chill out,” Will said. “He’ll be home soon.”

“With Mike,” El added. Joyce could tell she was excited. She wore jeans with a blue and white sweater, and she’d put on a little extra makeup. Her chocolate ringlets danced just below her shoulders. 

Finally, at nine o’clock, Joyce heard a key scrape at the lock and saw the deadbolt turn. Hopper opened the door, puffs of snow scattered over his coat and hair. Mike stood next to him. 

“Mike!” El yelled and ran to hug him. 

Hopper headed straight to Joyce. “Sorry I’m late. Roads were—”

She gripped his face, throwing her lips into his. “I’m just glad you’re home.”

“Me, too. Although I am going to have to take Mike home eventually.”

“Oh, Hop, no. I’ll call Karen. He can sleep over.”

Hopper grunted. “Are you kidding? I’ll have to stand guard all night.”

“Nothing’s going to happen. He’ll stay in Will’s room, obviously."

“Fine, but only if I can sleep in a chair in front of El’s door.”

Joyce rolled her eyes, smirking. “I’ll go call Karen,” she said, patting his chest before walking away. 

Even though it was well past dinnertime, Mike still wanted help preparing a nice meal for El. He had brought over spaghetti and sauce in a jar, beef, frozen garlic bread, and sparkling grape juice. Joyce leaned against the frame of the kitchen entrance, watching Hopper help Mike prepare the spaghetti just right so it wouldn’t stick together and cook the meat so it wasn’t undercooked or overdone. He even dug around the cupboards for a candle, lighting it. When everything was complete and the table set, Mike led El into the kitchen. Her eyes grew round as they darted from the kitchen table, then back to Mike. 

“You did a good thing, Dad,” Joyce told Hopper.

“Yeah, yeah.”

“It’s a big gesture, coming from a guy who’s maybe a tad overprotective of his daughter.”

Hopper sighed. “Sometimes I wonder what would’ve happened if—I just see a little bit of us in them, is all.”

Joyce grabbed Hopper's hand, leaning her head against his arm. “You know, if we’d stayed together, we wouldn’t have gone through all those experiences that made us _us_. And I wouldn’t have Will and Jonathan.”

“I know. I just think about it, sometimes.” They were silent for a minute. “Sorry this is your Valentine’s Day.”

“No, this is wonderful. I promise.”

“Why don’t I grab some of that leftover pasta, and we can eat it in the room?”

“Sounds great.” As Hopper dished up two plates, Joyce walked by the living room and noticed Will sitting by himself, watching TV. 

“You coming?” Hopper called from the bedroom doorway.

“I’ll be there in a minute. I’ve gotta do something.” Joyce sat down next to Will on the couch. “Hey, sweetie. How’re you doing?”

“I’m fine.”

“You sure? You don’t look it.”

“I just kind of hate Valentine’s Day is all.”

“Wanna talk about it?”

“I just—normally, I wouldn’t care. You know? If my friends were over, and we were all hanging out. But ever since El came back, Mike and I don’t talk as much. And he’s here, but he’s with El. And I kind of feel like…”

“A third wheel?” Joyce suggested.

“Yeah. Or invisible sometimes.”

“Have you tried talking to Mike about it?”

“Not really. Every time I start to bring it up, he gets defensive,” Will said. 

“And you’re not really feeling the whole girlfriend thing for yourself yet, are you?” Joyce asked. She’d noticed that he never really talked about it, but perhaps he was just a late bloomer. He was still fourteen, and she’d always known him to lag behind his peers socially in some ways. 

“Not really. Is that bad?”

“Oh, no. Of course not. You’re only fourteen. I know it seems like Mike and El are practically an old couple in a lot of ways, but everyone’s different. If you’re not ready or interested yet, then you’re not, and that’s fine.”

Will nodded, though he seemed unsure. 

“Hey, why don’t you and I have some pasta and some of those chocolates Hopper got for me, and we can watch a scary, non-valentiney movie?”

Will sighed. “I guess.”

“That’s the spirit! Lemme go talk to Hop real quick.”

By midnight, the dishes were clean, teens in bed, and the house quiet. Joyce headed to her room, closing the door behind her. Hopper lay in bed, snoring. Joyce crawled up next to him and rested her head against him, stroking his chest. He stirred, snorting a little as he lifted his head and looked at Joyce with glazed eyes. “Oh, hey.”

“Hey.”

Hopper rolled toward Joyce, wrapping his arm around her.

“Sorry Valentine’s Day was kind of a bust,” Joyce said.

Hopper chuckled. “Are you kidding me? I never really liked the holiday, anyway. Too much pressure. Would rather do something when _I_ want to do it.”

“Well, good. Maybe tomorrow we can find some time—”

But Hopper already had his lips on Joyce’s neck, hand cupping her breast. “Can’t stop thinking about earlier. You in your underwear, moving those hips.”

They said nothing as he removed only the necessary pieces of clothing and entered her with a groan. They moved together silently, pressing against one another, until Joyce tensed and arched her back, letting out a soundless cry. Hopper kissed her, his release almost as quiet, save a few grunts. He rolled back off of her, handed her some discarded clothing for cleanup, then leaned in and kissed her temple. “I love you.”

Joyce murmured a response, barely audible, as she let the tingling coax her into sleep. 

***

“Wake up, sleepyhead.”

“Hm?” Joyce lifted her head off the pillow, drool crusted to the corner of her mouth and hair stuck in a cowlick.

“Good sleep?” Hopper chuckled.

“Yeah. Why? What time is it?”

“Noon.”

“ _Noon?_ Why didn’t you wake me up?”

“Thought I’d let you sleep. Seemed like you needed it,” Hopper said. 

“I thought you worked today,” Joyce said, sitting up. “Wait, _I_ work today.”

“Well, we would, but go look outside.”

Joyce slid out of bed and walked to the window. A sea of white covered the entire pane. “Oh, god, has our house been buried?”

“Close to it. _Twenty_ inches twenty-four hours.”

“ _Twenty?_ You’re kidding!”

“Wish I was. Couldn’t get out of here even if I wanted,” Hopper said. 

“What are the kids up to?” 

“Having lunch. They think this is the coolest thing ever. Luckily, our power hasn’t gone out. I told them I’m going to send them out shoveling soon.”

“Can it even be shoveled?” Joyce asked. 

“Gonna try. Been on the phone with Flo, Callahan, Powell, and the hospital. The plows are trying, but it’s slow-going. They’ve started with the hospital, trying to plow main roads from there. Could take days until neighborhood roads are plowed. From what I’ve been told, they’ve got an ambulance attempting to make rounds. Powell got snowed in at the station, so they’re getting to him next, and then he’ll try to get around if need be. He’s gonna request a long vacation after this one.” Hopper smirked. “If I can manage to get out of here, I will, but you have the longest driveway. I think we’re stuck. I could probably talk the plows into stopping here sooner rather than later, but that might even take a whole day.”

Joyce nodded. “I’m gonna take a shower. I’ll make us lunch when I’m done.” After Joyce had showered, she threw on an oversized sweatshirt and matching sweatpants and walked into the kitchen to find Hopper had made her a turkey sandwich with a side of cottage cheese and an apple. 

“Simple, but it gets the job done,” he said. 

“Thanks.” She kissed him and sat down.

“We’re going outside,” Will announced. 

“Do you have enough snow gear for everyone to wear?” Joyce asked. 

“Yeah. El already has snow pants and boots, and we found Jonathan’s in the closet, so Mike’s gonna wear those.”

“Sounds good. Have fun.”

The rest of the afternoon passed by uneventfully, if a bit boring. The kids managed to shovel a path to Hopper’s vehicle, excavating it from its snowy grave. By the time they came back in, the front yard looked like a war zone from the teens’ attempted snow fort and subsequent snowball fight. 

“Take all your stuff off at the door and give it to me,” Joyce said. “I don’t want snow all over the floor.”

Joyce made hot dogs, mac n cheese, and peas for dinner. Easy and teen-friendly. The kids devoured their food after having expended so much energy outside. 

By seven, the sun had nearly set, but the sky reflected white against the snowy ground. “Let’s go shovel your car out,” Hopper said to Joyce.

“Now?”

“Yeah, why not? Kids are occupied. We need to get it out eventually. Could be fun.”

“I don’t know about your idea of fun,” Joyce mumbled, but she began digging around for her snow clothes, anyway. 

Fifteen minutes later, the pair looked more like marshmallows than anything. Hopper owned a full-body snow suit, potentially necessary for winter search-and-rescue. Joyce still owned snow pants from when she used to take her boys sledding. They armed themselves with shovels and headed outside. 

“You’re right, this is boring,” Hopper said as he and Joyce dug her Pinto out of the snow.

“Back inside?” she asked, her breath freezing in droplets around her face.

“Nah, I have a better idea.” Hopper bent down, rounding snow in his gloved hands before pelting it at Joyce’s body. 

“Hop!” she whined, but a smile formed at the corners of her lips. 

He threw another snowball.

“Fine. It’s _on_.”

Joyce and Hopper stumbled through the snowdrifts, chasing each other, yelling and laughing. Hopper ducked behind a tree as a snowball whizzed past him. “Haha, you miss—” Another projectile hit his chest. He scooped up as much snow as he could gather and moved toward Joyce, a misstep causing him to tumble to the ground. He burst into laughter and moved his legs in and out in the shape of a snow angel. When Joyce crept near, Hopper grabbed her leg, and she toppled on top of him. 

“I surrender!” Hopper gasped between laughs, and as Joyce relaxed, he pulled his arm back and plopped a pile of snow right on top of her head. 

“ _You_ —” She turned to him, pushing him toward the ground.

“You what?” Hopper teased. 

Joyce’s lips curled into a smirk. “Wanna go to the side of the house and make out?”

“Make out?” Hopper chuckled. “Okay.”

Joyce shoved him into the siding as she gripped the front of his snowsuit with both fists, thrusting her tongue past his lips. She ached for him in ways she never knew possible. How could she explain the need to crawl into his skin? It sounded so morbid, and yet, her entire being demanded it. 

“ _Joyce_.” Hopper’s voice broke. He flipped her around and pulled her back flush against him, fidgeting with her coat. He lifted it up, finding the top of her snow pants underneath, unzipping them before smoothing her coat back out. 

“Hop, what are you do—” Joyce groaned as he slid his hand down her pants, ice meeting fire. He thrust his freezing digits inside of her as she trembled against him, rocking into his hand. His thumb found her clit and circled it as he pressed deeper. 

“You feel so warm,” Hopper moaned into her ear, nipping at it. “And wet.”

Even with the wintery temperature, Joyce began to sweat. She leaned her head all the way back against Hopper’s chest as he pushed her scarf down to nibble and lick her neck. He wrapped his arm around her chest, pulling her in as his other hand worked at her core. 

“Don’t stop. Please don’t stop,” Joyce murmured. She closed her eyes, mouth cocked open, relishing every twinge as his thumb skimmed her clit, the building heat as his fingers stroked the ridges inside her. He brushed his lips against her ear, a low growl escaping, and _god_ did that ever turn her on. The persistent simmer within her rapidly reached the boiling point, spilling over as Joyce’s hips jerked and her knees clenched together. The surge rolled right through her, slow and blinding. Joyce’s legs buckled, but Hopper caught her underarms, supporting her as they both slid down to the snow. 

Hopper pressed a kiss into Joyce’s hatted head and reclined until they were lying, face up, in the snow. Flurries drifted down, landing on their noses and eyelashes. “It’s funny, the snow looks so different from this angle. Beautiful, really. I’ve never thought to look at it this way before,” Joyce said. “I kind of want to lay like this forever. No worries. Just this.”

“I'd worry about freezing to death,” Hopper teased.

“You know what I mean.” But she snuggled up next to him as he said it. “Do you think we’re weird?” she asked. 

Hopper turned his head to look at her. “Weird? How?”

“Well, it’s like ever since we acknowledged our feelings, we can’t keep our hands off each other. I’m forty-three, and I’ve never had this much sex in my life. It’s comical, if not embarrassing. I’ve never been a prude, but I’m just trying to understand this newly-discovered side of myself.”

Hopper exhaled and closed his eyes. “Every time we have sex, I fall more in love with you. Method doesn’t matter. Like everything, my nature, my existence, is exposed, but I’m not afraid, because it’s the most instinctual thing in the world.” He chuckled, rubbing his hands over his face, groaning. “That might be the sappiest thing I’ve ever said to anyone.”

“It’s okay. I like it,” Joyce whispered. She shivered, rubbing her arms. “I’m so cold, but I’m not ready to go in, yet.”

“Why don’t I go make some hot chocolate, and I’ll bring it out here with the comforter, and we can sit on the porch swing for a bit?”

Joyce smiled. “Sounds great, Hop.”

Five minutes later, he came back out carrying two mugs spilling over with marshmallows and a thick blanket that he wrapped around her. They leaned against each other, rocking in silence, watching the snow float to the ground. 

“Joyce?”

“Hm?”

Hopper licked his lips, and when he took Joyce’s hand, he trembled. 

“You okay?” she asked.

“No.”

Joyce’s eyebrows knit together as she searched Hopper’s eyes. “What’s the matter?”

“This isn’t enough,” he answered.

“What do you mean?”

Hopper brushed an errant piece of hair from Joyce’s cheek. “When we went on our first date, we told each other what we hoped for in a partner. I told you I wanted someone who would love El as her own. Someone I could talk and relate to. Someone fun. And you’ve been so good with El. Talking to her about girl stuff I know fuck about. Welcoming her into your home without hesitation. As far as she’s concerned, you’re her mom. I know the boys are a bit more reluctant toward me, particularly Jonathan, but I like to think that I’ve connected with them. I love them, too. As for us, you can get me to open up in ways that no other person has ever been able to. We have fun. Stupid fun and sexy fun. I love you, Joyce. I’m so, fucking, madly in love with you, and I want all of it. All of you.”

As Hopper talked, Joyce’s heart rate increased to the point that it about beat out of her chest. “Are you—”

“Joyce, will you—”

“Oh my god.” Joyce’s gloved hands flew to her face, tears forming in the corners of her eyes.

“Will you let me finish?” Hopper grinned.

“Right.” She touched his arm. “Go on.” Her hands returned to her mouth as she bounced a little.

“Will you go with me to Hawaii? A vacation, just the two of us?”

Joyce paused, face falling, though she thought she hid it well. “Uh—oh. _Oh_. Yes, yeah, that sounds wonderful.” She nodded, plastering a smile on her face.

“After you marry me?” Hopper broke into a wide smile as he pulled out a box, cracking it open to reveal an exquisite sapphire ring.

Joyce shrieked and flung herself into his arms, assaulting his mouth with her own. 

“Is that a yes, or—?”

“Yes, _and—_ ” Joyce smacked his arm. “— _that’s_ for fooling me.”

Hopper’s eyes gleamed as he laughed. “I didn’t fool you. We’re going to Hawaii.”

“How can we afford that?” Joyce asked. 

“By selling the trailer. Made a small chunk of change.” He glanced down at the box. “Here, take your glove off.”

Joyce freed her hand, and Hopper slid the ring onto her finger. Her mouth hurt from smiling so hard. “Oh!” She jumped. “The kids!” She hurried inside. Will, El, and Mike sat around the kitchen table, playing Monopoly. Joyce ignored the slush falling from her boots in splats all over the floor as she rushed over, holding her hand out and grinning. 

“Yay yay yay!” El yelled. 

“We’re so happy for you, Mom,” Will said.

“It looks even better on your finger than in the box,” Mike said.

“Wait, you already knew about it?” Joyce asked.

“Yeah, El picked it out, actually,” Hopper explained, walking up behind Joyce. “She was too excited to keep it from her friends.”

Joyce pulled up a chair and sat down next to El, taking the girl’s hand. “You picked the ring out?”

El nodded.

“That is so precious. I am honored that you would do that for me, and honored to have you as my daughter.”

El wrapped her arms around Joyce, squeezing tightly. “I love you,” she said.

“Oh, I love you, too, sweetheart.”

Later, after some of the excitement had died down, Joyce and Hopper warmed up on the couch, snuggling under a blanket, watching TV. Hopper made more hot chocolate after their mugs were forgotten outside in all the commotion. Joyce sipped at hers, admiring the ring every time she brought her hand up to her face. Hopper just stared at her, lips quirking up at the corners. Finally, Joyce whirled toward him. “What?”

“I just think you’re adorable.”

“Hm? What did I do?”

“You’ve been pretty much staring at that ring nonstop since we got in here."

Joyce blushed a little. “Yeah, well, it’s the nicest piece of jewelry I’ve ever owned. The two people attached to it aren’t half bad, either.” She met Hopper’s eyes as they took her in, her vision trailing to his thin lips, nearly obstructed by his thick stubble. She wet her own lips instinctively, unaware that she did so. Hopper noticed as his eyes traveled to her mouth, then moved to close the distance between them. 

“Oh god, not again!” Will wailed as the three teens walked in on them. “Get a room! Eh, on second thought, don’t. Please don’t.”

El covered her mouth, trying to smother her giggles unsuccessfully. Mike avoided eye contact.

Joyce blushed. Maybe she and Hopper should tone it down a bit. They really needed a bigger house. And thicker walls. 

Soon, they’d be a family of five, a hodgepodge of stories and beginnings. Not long after, they’d be six. An unusual arrangement, to say the least, but as Joyce sat back, watching her new family, she knew she wouldn’t have it any other way.


End file.
